


Fake it So Real

by Girlblunder



Category: Jennifer's Body (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Coming of Age, Drama, F/F, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26774491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girlblunder/pseuds/Girlblunder
Summary: In a world where Jennifer isn't sacrificed, things are different. The tragedy at Melody Lane still changes her relationship with Needy—but the changes aren't necessarily healthy or easy.Jennifer and Needy both love and hurt each other the most.
Relationships: Jennifer Check/Anita "Needy" Lesnicki
Comments: 46
Kudos: 289





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I finished the first chapter months ago, and fully intended to finish all three chapters before posting. After some tough things happened IRL, chapter two only got partially done.
> 
> I'm diving right back in, and am hoping the one or two readers I might pick up along the way will help motivate me to finish.
> 
> I am telling you right now, Jennifer and Needy will hurt each other. Jennifer will sleep with boys, because that's what she does. However, given how things are right now I can also tell you one more thing... they WILL have a happy ending. The path there won't be simple, but I promise you, it's coming.
> 
> I hope you can enjoy this drama/angst knowing that. :)

* * *

_Seventeen - Jennifer Loves ~~Boys~~_

* * *

The old parking lot, full of ash and runoff water and a million things Jen can’t bother thinking about, reflects the red and blue lights in a hypnotic way.

Red. Blue. Red. Blue.

She blinks and her eyelids, sticky from sweat and smoke, almost don’t open back up again. Her eyes feel like they’re burning, and her throat and chest and lungs feel so much worse than that one time she tried weed and coughed for a small eternity. _Raw_.

She blinks again and slowly peers around. Everyone is moving either too fast or too slow, and the place where Melody Lane used to stand is empty.

“I’ve got you,” Needy murmurs as she pulls her closer.

Jennifer lets herself be held from behind. Her puffy coat doesn’t really let her feel much of Needy, but pale hands are locked tightly over her collar bone and she can at least feel that pressure. An anchor.

She moves her foot to nudge an unidentifiable bit of burned _something_ away.

Everyone got out, or so Needy had said. Jennifer isn’t sure if that’s true. She’d seen some people fall, had heard the crunch of bone as panicked people trampled over others while fleeing.

Jennifer had frozen. It had been Needy that had grabbed her hand and gotten them both to safety.

When the lead singer from Low Shoulder had approached her, she hadn’t really registered him. It hadn’t been until she was a foot from the van that she panicked.

Just like that, Needy had been there again, a flurry of blonde hair and clawed hands.

It hadn’t stopped the singer or his bandmates—but it had gotten a shaken, pissed-off Roman’s attention. Who, high on adrenaline and jealousy, had.

“Oh my god, there’s more news vans coming.”

Needy’s voice penetrates the fog in her head again. Jennifer’s stomach churns when she sees Roman, chest all puffed up, being interviewed by a reporter.

“Can we just go?” Jennifer hears herself croak out. “Please?”

“Jen, the paramedic said to wait. Plus that cop said we might need to give another statement.”

A burst of anger makes Jen turn, ready to rage at Needy for daring to disagree. She isn’t sure if it’s the scared look behind crooked glasses or the smudge of ash on a pale cheek, but her anger disappears.

Moisture collects in her eyes, making them burn worse. “Please, Needy? I can’t be here.” She blinks but the tears don’t come.

Needy sniffles, and it’s then that Jen realizes the clean trails down her face are from crying. “Okay,” Needy says with a nod.

They stand up, then Needy is fumbling in one of her puffy pockets for the keys to the Sebring. Jennifer stands placidly while they’re retrieved.

As Needy steps back with trembling hands, Jennifer wonders if she’s really okay to drive. Taking a shallow breath, Jennifer reaches out for her hand. “Thanks.”

Needy nods and anxiously interlaces their fingers. Her head swivels around while they walk, as if she’s afraid someone will stop them.

But in all the chaos, no one seems to care.

Jen isn’t sure how she feels about that. She isn’t sure if she feels—she blinks, and they’re miles from where they were. Sitting up, she runs her hands along the upper strip of her seatbelt. She doesn’t remember getting in _or_ buckling up.

“Hey,” Needy says in a strained voice. “Glad to have you back with us.”

She grips the strap with both hands and stares out the window. Everything is a dark blur. Streetlights are few and far between in this part of town, which is mostly forest or converted farmland.

Something is moving ahead of them, causing her to squint and point. “Hey.”

Needy hunches over the steering wheel and slows the car.

Ahmet, face and clothes covered in soot, raises a hand to block the brightness of the headlights.

For some reason, seeing him makes Jen’s eyes sting again. She sits still as Needy lowers the window and pulls up alongside him.

“Ahmet! You made it out!”

She sounds so surprised that Jennifer realizes Needy _hadn’t_ known if everyone had, in fact, escaped Melody Lane in time. She takes a breath. “Does your host family know you’re alive?”

Ahmet, looking dazed, shakes his head.

“Get in,” Needy says before Jennifer can think to.

The ride to Ahmet’s house is made in silence. He mumbles a ‘thank you’ as he slips from the car, and Jennifer sees him stumble just before he reaches the front door. The porch light is on, and some part of her is relieved when Mrs. Johnson opens the door before Ahmet can find his key.

They don’t speak as they watch Mrs. Johnson hug him and pull him inside.

“You wanna spend the night?” Jen asks as they continue to sit. Needy’s mom is on swing shift and it’s not even ten o’clock yet. Her parents aren’t the best, but it’s better than being alone.

“I don’t know.”

Jen turns to face her. Normally she would demand Needy’s presence, pressure and manipulate Needy until she gave in. “Or I can stay with you.”

Their eyes connect. Needy’s are rimmed with red; she seems lost.

It makes Jennifer want to find a mirror. How does _she_ look? Like shit, probably.

Needy takes a stuttering breath and pulls away from the curb. After a while, her hand finds Jennifer’s in the dark.

Jen knows when Needy turns left instead of right that it’ll just be them. Somehow, it seems fitting.

There had been so much happening at Melody Lane, both before and after the fire had started, that being alone with Needy seems like the only thing to do.

Her mom calls as Needy is getting clothes for her to borrow. She explains things in hushed tones, and though her mom seems resistant to the idea, she convinces her that staying with Needy is what she needs.

“Here,” Needy says once the call has ended. “You can shower first.”

She blinks down at the clothes Needy is still holding out. It’s faint, but… “You’re shaking.” The observation seems to set something off, because Needy’s shaking intensifies.

With her right hand, she takes the clothes and tosses them to the bed. Her left hand catches Needy’s. “Come on.”

Needy doesn’t protest as she leads the way to the bathroom and turns the shower on.

There’s nothing sexual in the way she helps Needy undress and strips herself down. She checks the temperature of the water before she helps Needy in. After the initial rinse, Needy breaks down. Jen holds her close and just lets the water wash over them both. The contact, the warm whole of their bodies, eventually helps Needy calm down.

Needy quietly washes her hair, and Jen doesn’t rush when she returns the favor. A timeless moment later, they’re in clean clothes and facing each other in Needy’s bed. They left the hallway light on and the door open, and she can still see Needy’s face clearly. It keeps something in her head quiet and still. At least for the moment.

“That happened,” Needy whispers after a while.

Jennifer isn’t sure when their fingers tangled together in the middle of the bed, but she’s glad for the tangible connection. She rubs the side of Needy’s hand with her thumb. She isn’t sure she wants to think about Melody Lane. “Yes.”

“Those guys almost took you, Jen.”

She flinches but doesn’t pull away. She definitely doesn’t want to think about that. “Yes.”

A breath, then, “Are you okay?”

She stares at Needy, feeling numb. That’s not normal. Is it?

“I don’t know.”

Needy frowns at her, then pushes up onto her elbow. She keeps hold of Jennifer’s hand as she leans over.

The kiss is soft and delicate and—Jennifer bursts into tears.

Without hesitation, Needy drops back down and pulls her close.

She isn’t sure how long she cries, but when her lids grow too heavy, Needy kisses her again. “I’ve got you,” she hears just before she loses consciousness.

***

The next day, and the day after that, Jennifer still doesn’t feel like herself. It doesn’t help that it’s all over the news.

 _Local Hero Saves Lives and Foils Kidnapping_.

If she could muster some sort of feeling, it would be disgust at having to see Roman’s smug face plastered everywhere. What had he really done that night? She’d seen him take off when the fire started, and Jennifer knows it was mostly his hurt ego that had sent him storming toward Low Shoulder’s van.

She won’t think about what the police found in the van. She won’t.

A sharp sting makes her glance down at her hands. Surprised, she blinks down at the red crescent shapes that reveal themselves when she relaxes her fingers. She hadn’t meant to hurt herself.

With a silent huff, she finds some peroxide under the bathroom sink and cleans the scratches.

Three people had died at Melody Lane and she’s still alive.

Isn’t she?

“Hey.”

The soft voice is followed by warm arms wrapping around her from behind. Her eyelids flutter closed as she leans back into Needy. “You’re here.”

“Yeah.” Needy sighs and leans harder into her.

Something ripples along Jennifer’s spine when one of Needy’s arms loosens. She opens her eyes and watches as Needy cups the back of one of her hands, clearly examining the scratches.

Needy doesn’t ask if Jennifer is okay, instead lightly running a thumb over the marks.

For a moment, Jennifer imagines her pressing down on them. Hard.

Instead, Needy sighs and brings Jennifer’s hand up to kiss her palm. It makes Jennifer shiver.

Needy widens her stance and shifts her hips tighter against Jen’s.

And though Jennifer knows this closeness that has redeveloped between them—this need they have to be near to each other—will never last because it never does, she doesn’t care.

She sighs when Needy nuzzles into the side of her neck. There are lines they don’t cross. Not anymore.

It’s been harder for Jen lately since the only one she can stomach being around is Needy. No, stomach isn’t the right word. Needy is the only one she _wants_ to be around. The only time Jen feels anything is when some part of Needy is touching her, grounding her.

Or maybe she’s grounding Needy, the same way she has been since they were kids.

Needy is pretty and smart, and meant to do so much more than stay in Devil’s Kettle for the rest of her life.

Jennifer knows in a world without Needy, a life in Devil’s Kettle would be the best she could hope for. But that’s not the case. Not in this one, not as long as she keeps Needy bound to her in whatever way necessary.

If worse comes to worst, she can _make_ Needy stay. She clenches her teeth to avoid smiling, then finds Needy’s soft blue eyes in the mirror.

“Chip will be mad.”

The reminder is as much for herself as Needy.

“No, he understands.”

Jennifer scoffs and raises her eyebrows.

Needy bites her lip. “Okay, so he doesn’t, not fully, but he’ll live.”

“Mm.” Jennifer knows it must be driving Chip insane. He’s never liked her, never liked her hold on Needy. He doesn’t understand that Needy’s got a hold over her, too.

He doesn’t understand how much Jennifer hates _him_. But now…

She drops her free hand to the one pressed over her stomach, tracing her fingers tenderly over Needy’s skin. Their eyes meet in the mirror, and she can feel the way Needy’s breathing changes.

Slowly, carefully, she guides both of Needy’s hands to her hips. She knows how skittish Needy is. She waits, but Needy doesn’t pull away. Taking a breath and holding it, she gradually turns so they’re facing one another. Needy still doesn’t pull away.

There _were_ lines that they didn’t cross.

But when her hands find the top button to Needy’s jeans, methodically pushing the metal free, Needy sways closer.

The zipper being lowered is loud in the bathroom, and then Needy is moving in a flurry. Where Jennifer’s movements are cautious, Needy’s are frantic.

Jen is unceremoniously pushed and pushed until her back finds the wall and Needy’s hot mouth is connecting with hers and— _oh_.

She slides her hands into Needy’s hair, keeping their mouths together as one of Needy’s hands dips into her panties.

Though she loves kissing Needy (they’d made out for nearly an entire summer once they’d discovered kissing) it’s desperation that leaves her unwilling to part from Needy’s plush lips. If she says anything, if Needy says anything, this might end.

Because Jen knows Anita Lesnicki better than she knows herself.

Some minutes later when they’re both cooling down, Jen still doesn’t say anything. Instead, she brushes delicate kisses to Needy’s neck and helps her get dressed.

Needy, blue eyes wide and hair mussed, seems ready to either begin speaking a mile a minute or run away as fast as possible—so Jennifer tangles their hands together and centers herself.

“Will you stay?” she asks quietly.

“I,” Needy blinks and searches her face. Something in her steadies. “Yeah.”

Later, when Needy is spooned against her back and playing with her hair, Jennifer wonders if their closeness _can_ last. She hopes so.

“You going to come to school tomorrow?” Needy’s voice is muted, as if not to disturb the peace.

She’d skipped Friday. It’s tempting to keep skipping, but she also wants to test these changes between her and Needy. Before Melody Lane, it had always felt like she had to fight for every moment with Needy.

Now she knows there’s a better way. Rather than telling and demanding, a soft question is all it takes.

“Will you stay with me if I do?”

“Of course.”

Needy’s arm tightens around her middle. Her eyes flutter closed when she feels an affectionate kiss against the patch of skin where her neck meets her shoulder.

“I’ll go.”

***

Walking down the hallway at school the following morning is the oddest thing Jennifer has ever experienced. The town is in somewhat of a shock, but not here. Maybe it’s a little quieter, and no one’s making out (yet), but it’s pretty… normal.

It’s not what she expects since she still feels anything but normal.

“Everything okay?”

Jen feels her pulse accelerate and she clutches her notebook a little closer to her chest. She’d opted for nondescript today, a plain faded blue sweater and her hair down but unstyled. A lie rises up her throat. She waits a beat. “I don’t know,” she says instead.

Needy gently smiles and moves closer, so their arms are brushing. “I’m with you, okay?”

“Okay,” Jennifer echoes.

She’s rewarded with a wider smile and Needy looping their arms together. Maybe it won’t be so bad to let Needy take charge for a while.

“Needy!”

Jen follows the voice. Chip is near his locker, holding the backpack strap that’s slung over his shoulder with both hands. He’s giving Needy a hopeful look, and she braces herself for Needy’s retreat.

Chip always comes first unless Jennifer presses the issue.

To her surprise, Needy’s arm stays. Needy uses her other hand to wave at him, but keeps walking with her. “Hey.”

Though Jennifer has been trying to be better, she feels giddy when Chip’s dumb face becomes sad. _Good_. Needy can do better.

Her eyes drift down to where their arms are linked, and she feels warm.

First period is Mr. Wroblewski, who speaks awkwardly about Melody Lane for the bulk of home room. She asks Needy if Friday had been like that and Needy says it had actually been kind of moving.

For the most part, Jennifer zones out for the majority of the day. The solitude of home is different from the chaos of school, and Jennifer isn’t sure she remembers how she acted before. Some of it (like snide remarks) come to her head easily, but she can’t muster the energy to actually deliver.

“Hey Lez-nicki? What did you do this weekend? Finger anyone I know?”

Jen hesitates as she pushes the door to the girls’ bathroom open, then feels something in her change. A dark, familiar feeling is returning. She shouldn’t have paused to get a drink from the fountain. Chastity is going to ruin the delicate balance she and Needy have maintained throughout the weekend.

She grits her teeth as she turns the corner. Needy’s head is down while she washes her hands, a snarky Chastity standing near the paper towels with her arms crossed.

The darkness from before continues and grows. Jen straightens her spine and flips her hair as she comes to stand in front of Chastity.

“You know what, Chastity? It’s funny how obsessed you are with Needy’s sex life.” Jen tilts her head and bites her lip as she gives Chastity a onceover. “Is there something you wanna tell us?”

Chastity blanches and adjusts her glasses. “Oh, come on, I see how—”

Jennifer’s eyes narrow. “Why _are_ you always watching Needy?”

Her brown eyes anxiously flickering between Jennifer and Needy, and Chastity takes a half step back.

“Oh,” she allows her eyes to widen as she raises her eyebrows. “I get it. _You’re_ into her.” Jennifer keeps moving forward until Chastity’s back hits the paper towel dispenser.

“Jen,” Needy says in a low warning.

Jennifer takes a deep breath, then tugs her necklace up so the chain is playing against her lips. She doesn’t say anything as she stares directly into Chastity’s eyes.

Face still pale, Chastity shakes her head and slinks past Jennifer. “Whatever,” she mutters as she leaves, but her voice is shaking.

The dark, giddy feeling in Jennifer’s chest expands as she watches Chastity leave.

“Jen, that wasn’t cool.”

“I agree. She’s a total bitch.”

“ _Jen_.”

Wavering, Jennifer turns to look at Needy. “What? She’s obviously dealing with some extreme internalized homophobia and taking it out on you because she’s totes jello.”

“I mean, no, but come on.” Needy’s expression is pleading, her eyebrows upturned as her eyes connect with Jennifer. “Please don’t be like that anymore. I think we both know that, you know, things have been different…”

When her eyes drop to the ground, Jennifer steps forward. She reaches up and pushes some of Needy’s hair behind her ear. She softens her voice to a near-whisper. “You’re right.”

She finds Needy’s hands with her own, then slowly begins backing up into a stall.

Needy’s cheeks flush and her eyes dart around, but she follows along. “At school? Jen, I don’t know…”

“It’s just for a little bit.” Jen makes it inside first, and then pauses in closing the stall door. “Please?”

Needy visibly swallows, but it’s her hand the pushes the door fully shut. “Just for a little bit.”

They fall into each other at the same time, and Jen thinks back to their first summer of kisses again. As Needy pants against her neck she’s certain that, this time, Needy will choose her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, but I was _lucky_ enough to get the flu. Fun times. This chapter ended up going a bit long (I like my chapters around 3k-4k) so I've split it into two. The next chapter shouldn't take nearly as long to post.

* * *

_Eighteen (Part One) - Jennifer Loves Boys_

* * *

By the start of senior year, things have cooled off between Jennifer and Needy. It doesn’t worry Jennifer as much as she thought it would; they still spend the majority of their days and nights together. Summer had been… almost magical.

“Hey,” Needy says before she places a soft kiss to Jennifer’s neck.

Jennifer turns her head to smile up at Needy, who takes the seat next to her. The library had initially started out as a quiet place to keep Jen from the temptation of old habits. Needy had cajoled Jennifer into doing their homework together, something they hadn’t done since fourth grade when Jen had been struggling with reading and Needy had been flying through _everything_. To both their surprise, the homework sessions have Jen’s grades steadily climbing.

Goosebumps prickle to life along Jen’s skin when she remembers the look on Needy’s face when she’d said, “ _Jen, if you keep this up we can go to State together_!” Jennifer hasn’t brought up college to her mother yet. Too many, “At least you’re pretty” comments still sit like lead in the pit of her stomach.

Needy leans so her chin is resting on Jennifer’s shoulder. Jen fights the urge to cover up her homework.

“This looks good,” Needy murmurs as if she’s aware just how sweaty Jennifer’s hands have gotten.

Jennifer perks up. “Natch. I’ve got this banging study buddy. And by banging, I mean we’re—”

Needy flushes and shoves a hand over Jennifer’s mouth. “Jen,” she hisses as she glances around. They’re on the second floor in the reference section, where no one goes unless they’re actually trying to study (or make out). Usually Jen and Needy do a bit of both.

Deciding its time to break for the latter, Jennifer is about to lick Needy’s hand when someone clears their throat behind them.

Chip is smiling at them awkwardly, one hand gripping his backpack strap and the other stuffed into one of his pockets. “Hey.”

Jen twists away from Needy’s hand to stuff her English homework into a folder and slam it shut. “Hey, splinter,” she says flatly.

“Uh, Splinter? Like, the rat?”

Before Jennifer can say no, like an annoying piece of wood stuck under her skin that she can’t get rid of, Needy cuts in.

“Oh, yeah! Jen’s been on a huge Ninja Turtles kick.” Her blue eyes are pleading when they land on Jen.

Jen forces a smile and glances at Chip. “I’m so hot for Leonardo it’s not even funny. Like, all those muscles and his sword is _so_ big.”

Chip purses his lips and adjusts his backpack. “Actually, I think it’s a katana but, um, yeah. Okay, I’ll add to the list of things I wish I didn’t know about you.”

Still feeling irritated with Needy for inviting _the splinter_ , Jen grins. “I mean, April O’Neil is also scrumptious. I wouldn’t mind a little,” Jennifer brings a hand up to her mouth and spreads her index and middle finger, and then flicks her tongue between them in a licking motion.

“ _Jennifer!_ ” Needy shoves her shoulder with wide eyes, then tries to play off her reaction with a chuckle towards Chip. “We were just finishing up English if you want to get started on Math.”

The way Needy stands and flutters over to Chip makes Jen grit her teeth. She takes a breath and considers evacuating for her own sanity—but leaving Needy and Chip in the prime makeout section of the library doesn’t sit well with her, either.

“I’m still working on English but don’t let that stop you two lovebirds.” Jen opens the folder containing her homework and stares at it. Needy hadn’t even _started_ her English assignment yet. With a silent huff, Jen pushes up from the table. “I need another book,” she says without looking at where Needy and Chip have sat down. Opposite of where Needy originally was, so she can sit by _Chip_.

Jennifer chooses a stack two rows over. Far enough away that Jen won’t do anything stupid to upset Needy, but close enough that she can still angle a peek through the books to make sure nothing other than studying is going on.

For her cover, she takes the J encyclopedia out and begins flipping through its pages. She settles on a random page and forgets everything as she slowly absorbs its contents.

“Joan of Arc, huh?” comes the quiet observation.

Jennifer freezes and debates ignoring Needy.

“Jen, come on.”

She reads the same sentence four times and sighs. “Why’d you invite him?” she asks in a low voice to match Needy’s.

A pause. “He’s my boyfriend. You know that.”

Incensed, Jen shuts the book with an audible smack. “You know what I don’t know? Why the hell is he _still_ your boyfriend?”

Needy’s eyes narrow. “I’ve told you. He’s been so great this whole time. I’d feel like such an ass if I dumped him now.”

Jen’s lips twitch. She’d thought Chip would get tired of Needy long before now. He’s barely gotten a moment alone with her for months, and yet he’s still clung on. Needy’s excuses have been sounding more and more just like that: excuses.

It’s always something, isn’t it? Every time, things go exactly the same way. No one chooses her first when given a choice, not even Needy. She glares at where Chip is sitting, only to find his seat empty.

“He ran out to get us all snacks. Because he’s _nice_.”

A dark feeling slides down Jennifer’s spine. She tilts her head and lets the ghost of a smile touch her lips. “I’m not nice?” She asks in a soft voice as she puts the book on its shelf and sidles closer to Needy. “Not even a little?” She brushes her hand against the back of Needy’s.

Needy’s breathing hitches. Jennifer slowly glides their fingers together, teasing at first, then fully, firmly interlaced. “Even when I served you breakfast in bed this morning when you weren’t feeling well?”

“Jen, I,” Needy swallows, and Jen hopes she’s thinking about the glorious makeout session that had followed. Victory is close when Needy’s eyelids start to droop. Jennifer licks her lips and smiles when Needy’s nostrils flare. She leans forward but doesn’t kiss Needy, instead bringing her free hand up to play with the tips of Needy’s hair.

The only warning she gets is a warm, shuddering breath against her cheek, and then Needy is kissing her and pushing her further back, out of sight of anyone but each other.

Jen—skirt pushed up, leg hitched over Needy’s hip and hand awkwardly stuffed down the front of Needy’s jeans—is _close_ some minutes later when she realizes that Needy hasn’t heard the muffled sounds of Chip’s return. His low inquiry of, “Needy? You there?” follows.

Oblivious, Needy kisses her. For a moment, she considers Chip walking over and finding them, just like this (something Needy wouldn’t be able to explain away) and climaxes.

“Fuck,” Needy hisses as she arches against Jennifer’s hand.

As they calm down, the vague sounds of Chip muttering filters through their surroundings. Their eyes meet and Needy sighs but, instead of rushing away, she curls into Jennifer and holds her close.

“It’s been a while since I spent the night. How about tonight?” Jennifer eventually asks in a whisper. She almost curses herself for asking. Is she any better than Chip?

Needy chuckles and nudges her nose against Jennifer’s neck. “It’s been like, maybe, three days.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

A beat of silence.

“Yes.”

Satisfied, Jen can’t be annoyed when they take a few quiet, careful moments to neaten up.

Her satisfaction only lasts for a short while after sitting down. Chip clumsily distributes the snacks and, with a blush, rubs the back of his neck.

“I also got, um, you know.” He tugs his jacket open and slides something partially out of the interior pocket that Jen can only see in the reflection of Needy’s glasses. “For next time.”

“What’s for next time?” She flicks the bag of nacho Doritos away with a scowl. He knows she doesn’t eat junk food, and yet it’s the same thing every time. Yeah, what a _nice_ guy.

Chip’s blushing intensifies, and then he clears his throat and looks away. “It’s personal.”

Jennifer stares at him before letting her attention drift to Needy. Though Jennifer wouldn’t call herself the smartest person in any room, the fact that Needy’s math homework is out while she reads a history book is enough of a clue.

“Personal, huh?” As Jennifer stomach churns, she reaches for the bag of Doritos. What does it matter, anyway? So what if she gains weight, breaks out, whatever.

It’s likely Needy is still having sex with Chip, or will be again soon enough. Needy will never break up with him. Not for Jen, at least.

*

She doesn’t go to Needy’s house that night, and Needy only makes a cursory effort to convince her otherwise. Jennifer gets into her favorite ragged pajamas when she gets home, the cheap processed junk from earlier not sitting well in her stomach.

Halfheartedly, she considers alcohol. Why did she even bother trying to be a better person? Why should she bother with anything? The time she spends on her hair and makeup every day, the careful way she watches what she eats (just like her mom had taught her) amounts to nothing. She’s pretty, but what would happen if she wasn’t anymore?

Is there something just wrong with her? No matter who she dates, who she spends time with, the result is always the same. She’s good enough to fuck, but not anything else. Briefly, she considers Roman. He’d called her after Melody Lane asking for a hookup, but even though he might be considered a hero by all the dumbasses that don’t know better, Jennifer is too sick of his face to turn to him.

She stares at herself in the mirror for a long time, wondering if it’s the faint pock mark on her forehead or the tiny scar near her nose that keeps her from being pretty enough to love.

***

The following morning she goes to school without Needy. She’d attempted to leave the house in comfy clothes and with no makeup, but her mom had taken one look at her and sent her back to her room. Baggy jeans and loose sweatshirt had been replaced with snug denim and a pastel babydoll shirt. Her hair is pulled back into a clip today, foundation and some lip gloss only hiding a few of her flaws.

Needy catches her in home room, and Jennifer barely acknowledges her. She responds enough so Needy can’t say she’s being ignored (against the BFF rules they’d written up in third grade) but by the time they split up for second period, Needy is clearly frustrated.

Good, Jen thinks.

English is fine and, having actually done the required reading, Jennifer ends up getting into an interesting discussion with Colin Gray that makes time pass faster. She even manages a small smile at him when the bell rings. He grins back, his lip piercing popping up.

She wonders if he’s happier with the way he looks now. He’s wearing more makeup than she is. It’s not a judgment, just an observation.

The eyeliner makes his eyes pop nicely, she muses as she wanders down the hall with her books tucked against her chest.

“Jen!”

Needy’s voice makes her heartbeat pick up. Jen ignores that, but diligently turns toward her. “Where’s it at, Monistat,” she intones flatly.

Needy blinks hard and places a hand on Jennifer’s arm, gently guiding them out of the flow of traffic. “What’s up with you today?”

 _Did Chip spend the night?_ Jennifer almost asks. Instead, she sighs.

Needy echoes her sigh and shifts slightly forward. She licks her lips. “Is this about the library?”

Jennifer has to hold back a harsh laugh. Needy doesn’t say _Chip_ , still skirting around the truth. Jen can’t really complain; it’s not like she has the courage to bring it up, either.

“Hey, Jen?” a pleasant voice cuts in. Colin. He’s not smiling but his eyes are twinkling.

“Colin.” She can’t muster up more than the minimum, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He gnaws on his lower lip and begins fidgeting with one of the studded bracelets on his wrist. “So, English class was slightly less boring today. Thanks for that.”

Her lips slightly curl up. “You too.”

Colin chuckles and musses a hand through his hair. “We were kind of on a roll. It was a good discussion. So much so that, you know, I was wondering if maybe you might want to hang out sometime, maybe talk some more. I think our next unit is Shakespeare, so.”

About to reject him outright, Jennifer hesitates. The muffled feelings of the day begin to fade as an old, dark excitement rises. No matter how Colin is putting it, she’s seen the way his eyes occasionally skirt away from her cleavage. He’s not as annoying as other boys about it, at least.

Needy had been crushing on Colin since seventh grade. She’d simply put that aside when Chip had asked her out freshman year.

So Jennifer perks up, bites her lip, and smiles back at Colin. “Oh, I can think of a few things we can talk about.”

Colin freezes, then grabs his backpack strap. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she parrots back. He really is sort of pretty. If Needy is going to keep her boyfriend, then Jennifer is going to begin playing with boys again, too.

And if the boys on her list are all ones Needy has expressed interest in at one time or another, well, that’s her business.

Her smile stretches into a grin as Colin turns and leaves, and she feels a tingle of pleasure when Needy grips her arm and yanks her back into the lockers.

“What the hell was that about?” Needy hisses.

Jennifer tucks some loose hair behind her ear. “Oh, Needy. Do I really have to spell it out?”

Needy looks torn between anger and sadness. Jennifer wants to kiss her. And bite her. And kiss her some more. “Jennifer, why are you doi—”

Wishing they weren’t in the hallway, Jen merely yanks her arm free of Needy’s grip. “You know why,” she says as she turns on her heel and walks away.

***

The first night she hangs out with Colin, she explains that she’s not looking for a boyfriend. She also makes sure to tell him that she’s likely to hang out with other people. He seems a little disappointed, but cheers up when they end up making out.

Though Jennifer intends to play around, she’s not a complete asshole. Unlike _some_ people.

Over the course of the following months, she also _hangs out_ with Ty Connery, James Swanson, and Chris Abernathy. She only has sex with Colin and James since they’re actually good company, but she ignores the gossip that says she’s fucking her way through senior year. Everyone had been calling her a slut since seventh grade anyway.

She strides through the hallways with her head high and a smile on her face. Colin’s been helping her keep up with her school work since Needy’s been furious with her, and State is looking more and more like a real option.

Colin’s actually a pretty good influence. Who knew?

Her mind avoids focusing on the fact that he wasn’t the first. She checks her phone and goes over what homework she needs to finish. The anniversary for Melody Lane is coming up, and the school is planning to hold a memorial service. There are exams to worry about in addition to that, and Jennifer’s trying to ignore the stress she feels building within her every day.

“Hey, Hester.”

Jennifer snorts and smacks her locker shut, turning to lean back against it and roll her eyes at Colin. “So that makes you, what, the hot young preacher?”

Colin makes a face. “Well, we don’t have an illegitimate child together, and it’s not exactly a secret we hook up.”

She shrugs, enjoying the same exchange they’ve had numerous times now. Colin is a good friend; it’s been his way to make light of the gossip.

He sucks on his piercing and meets her eyes. “Needy would make a pretty convincing Roger Chillingworth.”

All of Jennifer’s amusement fades. “Don’t say that.” Drunk and hurt one night after confirming Needy and Chip had been having sex since about a month after Melody Lane, she’d blurted everything out to Colin.

“Tell me how I’m wrong.” His expression is serious and his eyes steady. “I used to think she was great, you know. We both know she’s the reason eighty percent of those rumors began.”

“It’s complicated.” Jen isn’t sure when she began playing with her necklace, but she drops it when Colin gives it a pointed look. She’s been honest with him except for one thing. He doesn’t know that, sometimes, she still spends time with Needy.

He’s always assumed the marks she’s left with after are from someone else. His only complaint about it is that he thinks whoever causes them is too rough with her.

As open-minded as he’s proven to be, Jennifer still hesitates to tell him that sometimes it doesn’t feel rough enough. She loves Needy. She hates Needy. She wants to hurt her so much, make her so mad that she can’t stand it. Needy hurts her so much but she can’t stop herself—doesn’t want to, in fact. “Anyway, enough about me.”

Colin gasps, then grins when she punches his shoulder.

“Shut up.” She sticks her tongue out at him and pushes some loose hair out of her face. “Anything new with you? Your hair is getting a little long.”

His smile falters as he reaches up to smooth a hand over his head. “Do you not like it?”

She stares at him for a beat, unused to the show of doubt. “Does that really matter? Do you like it?”

He considers her for a moment and then his smile is back. “I think I love it, actually.”

“Hm.” She tilts her head and admires the way it frames his face. “Me too. You’re so pretty.”

They share a laugh and bump shoulders as they make their way to English.

Nearly there, Jennifer’s back stiffens. She slowly turns her head and finds Needy, blue eyes hard as she waits near one of the water fountains.

Jennifer’s pulse accelerates. Needy looks _pissed_.

A thrill travels down Jennifer’s spine. She licks her lips and takes Colin’s hand, wondering if she can taunt Needy into sneaking into her room again. It’s been a few days since the last time.

Colin, used to her displays, sighs a little under his breath and laces their fingers together. Jennifer steals a glance back to Needy.

Needy’s face is red.

Jennifer hums to herself as she and Colin make it to class.

“I really don’t get you two,” he comments as he lets go of her hand and takes his seat.

“You're not the only one,” Jennifer admits with a smile as she does the same. Needy’s furious expression is imprinted in her memory, and dark heat pools low in her abdomen when she considers what Needy might do about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Told you it wouldn't take as long. I'm going to try to get the final full chapter up by next week, so fingers crossed.

* * *

_Eighteen (Part Two) - Jennifer Loves ...?_

* * *

As expected, an irate Needy scrambles into her window just after dinner. Angry words lead to angry shoves, and then...

Jennifer grins against Needy’s skin as the radio on her nightstand begins playing “Poker Face”. She licks the side of Needy’s neck, then bites down—just hard enough to break the skin.

Needy hisses but shifts her hips harder against Jennifer’s. Jennifer responds by yanking back on her hair. A warning. Her back is digging into one of the corner posters of her bed and, briefly, she worries they’ll bring the entire canopy down on their heads.

“I can’t believe you,” Needy says with a groan as Jennifer’s left hand trails over her side.

“Mm.” Jennifer ducks her head to suck and bite her way across Needy’s collarbone, her hand skimming to the edge of Needy’s panties and back up again. “Funny thing, coming from you.”

She flicks her eyes up just in time to see Needy’s face darken with a scowl, and then they’re stumbling around the bed as they fight and kiss (if the painful clashing of their mouths can be called kissing).

Jennifer manages to break a fall onto the bed with her hands, her hair in Needy’s hand and Needy’s hot mouth against the nape of her neck.

“Did he touch you here?” Needy whispers as her right hand slides between Jennifer’s legs. Her touch is soft, and Jennifer knows she’s pleased with the slick proof of Jennifer’s arousal.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Jennifer presses up on her elbows long enough to look back at Needy. “You’ll have to be more specific. Which ‘he’ are you asking about?”

Whatever minute gentleness that had been in Needy’s expression disappears, and Jennifer is giddy when Needy loses her final ounce of control.

They share their rage and lust and disappointment in the course of the next hour, and by the time their energy fades, they’re both left panting and staring up at her pink canopy.

Her bed is barely big for the two of them to comfortably rest next to one another, and their skin is still sticking together where their bodies unavoidably maintain contact. It’s a heat that lingers as her body cools.

The silence between them now isn’t safe. It feels like the more they do this, the further away from herself she gets.

She feels a great emptiness, a disconnect like just after Melody Lane.

This isn’t them but at the same time, it is.

“Why _do_ you hate me so much?” Jennifer asks after a while. Her voice cracks at the end and she despises herself for it.

Needy doesn’t respond at first. She inhales loudly and Jennifer can feel her shake her head. “I don’t know.”

Though Jennifer has been aware of it for a long time, it still hurts to have confirmed. She knows why she hates Needy and, to a greater extent, herself. She’s not enough. If she thinks about it, she can guess why Needy hates her. So she tries not to.

“Sandbox love never dies,” Needy adds. It sounds like defeat, rather than pride.

And as much as she tries to avoid it, it hits Jennifer then. Needy wants to kill their link. They’ve been together through too much, and are bound by all the sweet and petty and wonderful and ugly things they’ve done to one another.

Though still bound, they are broken. Where Jennifer wants to desperately hold them together, Needy wants to let the pieces fall and shatter.

If Jennifer were a better person, she would let go. She’s not. Losing Needy terrifies her. She would rather be broken together than broken alone, even if that’s not what Needy wants.

Months ago, she thought maybe Needy wanted to stay. They’d been so _good_ together.

“Do you wish sometimes that you didn’t save me that night?”

The immediate rebuttal doesn’t come, so Jennifer sits up and begins pulling her clothes back on. She’s so tired. Maybe it _is_ time to let go.

“No.” Needy’s voice is strong and hard, and is accompanied by Needy’s too-tight embrace around her shoulders.

 _Another lie_.

“ _No_ ,” Needy insists with an even stronger squeeze. “Jen, I… just, no. No. Not you. Never you.”

Jennifer buries her face in her hands. _The lady protests too much, methinks_. She could laugh at Colin’s influence if she didn’t feel so much like crying. A few tears slip free and she scrubs them away. “It’s okay. Sometimes I wish that too,” she confesses as she straightens.

“ _Jen_!”

“Don’t worry, I’m not thinking about harming myself.” She lets out a humorless chuckle.

“No, Jen. I really—”

“God, _enough_ Needy. Just, enough. With everything.” If Needy had ever thought, even for a moment, that Jen should have died that night...

Her arm feeling heavy, she reaches up. The chain digs into her skin as she pulls on it, hesitant at first. With a hard yank, it comes free. She blindly throws it away. “Cross out Jennifer.”

Even though she hasn’t seen Needy wear her own charm in months, the message seems to come across clearly. Needy silently gets dressed, and Jennifer can’t bear to look at her. As strong as she’s pretending to be, the desperate part of her is clawing at her insides to pull Needy back in.

She cries a little more when Needy finally leaves, then gathers herself enough to finish getting dressed. Thirty minutes later a bleary Colin is blinking at her from his porch. He sighs but holds up an arm for her to slide under.

“Drama queen,” he mumbles as he leads the way to his room in the basement. She hadn’t told him much, but she’s sure she looks horrible.

“Shut up.”

“I hope you don’t want sex because I have never wanted to do that with you less.”

She laughs briefly but genuinely, then smacks him in the stomach. “I’m too tired for anything.”

He grunts and flops onto his bed, rolling over so there’s enough room for her. “And yet here you are at,” he squints at the glow-in-the-dark face of his clock, “too fucking early AM.”

“Shut up,” she repeats because it’s too early (or late) for clever quips. She settles under the covers with a sigh, her hand reaching for the charm around her neck out of habit. Its absence makes her chest tighten. “I think I’m done with sex for a while.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You still wanna be friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

She falls asleep thinking of Needy and the great feeling of emptiness that seems to have gotten impossibly larger.

***

“You look like shit.”

Jennifer sighs and pushes her tray away. She hadn’t eaten much, but Colin had insisted. “Thanks. You’re such a great friend.”

Colin grins. “I know.”

“ _I know_ ,” Jennifer mimics in a whiny voice. She rubs her forehead and then leans her head on her hand. Her eyes drift around the cafeteria. Not far off is the table full of goth friends Colin used to sit with. Several of the girls, in particular, are glaring hard in Jennifer’s direction. “I mean, they probably wouldn’t agree with me.”

Colin rolls his eyes and sips from his milk. “They weren’t friends so much as… I hate to use the word groupies, but that feels accurate. I couldn’t be myself with them. It always felt, I don’t know. Performative.”

“Huh.” Jennifer reaches for a carrot and idly chews on it. “Maybe that’s why this works. I feel like my whole life has been a performance.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Colin takes a deep breath and glances away. “You know, I think I like this whole no-sex thing. I think I’d like for things to stay like this forever, even.”

“Wow, just because you’re terrible in bed. Okay.”

Colin jerks his head back to glare at her. “I am _not_ terrible in bed. I just like having a real friend. Sex just brings something else into this and it’s exhausting. This is better. This is great.”

She tilts her head and examines his face. His hair is almost to his shoulders now. She’d given him a few tips on its care, and so the black strands are full and lush. “You know, I think so too. I’ve been so tired.”

“I’m not going to lie. I thought, if you and Needy ever stopped whatever fucked up thing you wanna call what you had, it’d be Needy’s choice.”

“It should have been. I treated her like shit for a long time just because I knew she’d let me get away with it.” The carrot, only half-eaten, is discarded back to the tray. “I’m fucked up and stupid and I should have known things weren’t going to work out.”

“Shut up.” Colin lightly kicks her under the table. “We’re all kind of fucked up. Maybe away from that messed up cycle things can change. You were smart enough to walk away from Needy before things got worse.”

Wishing they were anywhere but at school, Jennifer can only shake her head. “I’m not sure things could have gotten much worse. We were—it really wasn’t good.” She thinks of just after Melody Lane, and the summer they’d spent in their own bubble. “Well, it was. And then it wasn’t. I think maybe this last time I could have done it, you know? I could have been better. I felt so different after the fire and, you know, those guys. I still feel different. All the stuff I used to care about seems so pointless. Except Needy.”

Colin nudges his foot into hers. “I think everyone changed after that, just a little. You were so much closer to everything. I really can’t imagine how it must have made you feel when I felt so messed up just hearing about it.”

Jennifer drops her arms and begins rubbing her hands over her thighs. She stares at the table after a moment, gripping her knees. “Needy really helped me. She always knew the right thing to say or do, and for a while we really connected.” Her throat works. “The memorial is in a few days and I don’t know if I can handle it without her. The closer it gets, the more this feeling just _consumes_ me.” Before, she might be nervous about using ‘consume’ in a sentence around someone else. The hopeless emptiness drowns everything else out.

“I think you’re stronger than you think. But,” and he smiles at her again. “Who says we have to go to that stupid thing? We can do something chill. Our own way.”

“Yeah.” She takes a breath, wondering if that’ll work. She’s willing to try. “Okay.”

*

She still sees Needy in the hallway sometimes. The school is only so big.

Jennifer thought it’d be harder. She certainly feels something when she sees Needy. Loss. It drips into the emptiness tinged with anger and regret, before everything is once again swallowed up by the nothingness.

She can feel it lapping at her heels. It’s only a matter of time before she drowns in it.

Colin drives them out to an empty patch of farmland the day of the memorial. He’s gotten special permission from his mom to skip school since (for some reason) she really likes Jennifer and understands the experience might be too much.

Jennifer tells her parents nothing. It’s nice, in a way, to get the approval from Colin’s mom.

“What should we do now?” she asks as they sit in his car.

“Hm.” His thumbs tap against the steering wheel. “Mom packed us blankets and stuff. We could set up over there. Hang out.”

Not knowing what else to do, she agrees. It takes a few minutes to set up, but the end result is cozy. They sprawl out on their backs in opposite directions and stare up at the sky.

“Should we talk about,” he makes vague gestures with his hands, making his numerous bracelets clink, “you know. It.”

Briefly, Jennifer can taste the smoke on the back of her throat, can feel a large, unrelenting hand guiding her somewhere she doesn’t want to go. Her hands dig into the blanket. “Anything but that.”

They’re silent for a while longer and Jennifer tries to think about anything else.

“Hey, Jen?”

She blinks, glad to be pulled from her wandering thoughts. “Hm?”

“Um.” She can hear Colin swallow. “Do you think, um, when it’s just the two of us… can you call me Amy?”

Jennifer swivels her head and studies her friend, who won’t look directly at her. “Amy, huh?” she asks in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, you know, um.” Col—Amy’s voice cracks. “You know what, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Stop.” Jennifer pushes up onto her elbow, then twists so she’s on her stomach and her head is near Amy’s. Her mind isn’t shifting as quickly as she would like. Amy. Amy Amy Amy Amy Amy.

Amy still won’t look directly at her, but Jennifer knows this moment is important. A smaller, selfish voice is glad to have something else to focus on. She reaches out to play with the tips of Amy’s hair. “Don’t worry. I still think you’re a nerd, Amy.”

“I saw your last report card, Jen. You’re a nerd now, too.” Amy’s smiling but her cheeks are wet.

Jennifer rolls her eyes. “I’m also still a cheerleader. Those, like, totally cancel each other out.”

“ _Are_ you still a cheerleader? You hardly go to practice.”

“Please, I’m like the hottest one on the squad. They can’t get rid of me.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. In truth, she hasn’t felt like anything other than a hot mess since… forever. But it’s nice to pretend sometimes.

“Riiiight,” Amy draws out, a knowing glint in her eyes. “That must be it.”

Jennifer rolls so she’s on her back again. She sighs and looks up at the sky. “Definitely.”

“Jen?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“I try.”

“I know. I really do.”

She doubts it’ll last, but it’s something. It feels good to just… do what she can for Amy. “If you ever want to talk more, just say the word.”

“I mean, I’d offer the same, but you’ve been telling me like everything about you since the first night we hung out.”

Jennifer elbows her in the side. Amy laughs. Something seeps into the emptiness then that feels a lot like contentment.

It’s a start. Maybe.

***

Time trickles by slowly, but inescapably. She stresses over getting into State until the acceptance letter arrives. Amy pokes fun at her but then takes her out for fries to celebrate. If she looks back, she hopes this is what she’ll remember: the pockets of happiness in a tumultuous few years.

It feels like she blinks and her senior year is over. With the final day of school finished, there’s only Prom. She has no interest in it but her mom expects her to go, so she’d tentatively asked Amy. Amy, ever the peach, agreed but warned Jennifer she will _not_ be getting lucky.

The memory makes Jennifer smile as she adjusts her makeup a final time. She’d wanted to go in a tux but her mom had thrown a fit, so instead she’s bought Amy a corsage.

It’s a small thing, but Amy isn’t ready to be out yet. Not here, at least.

Everyone assumes Jennifer and Colin are dating, though rumors still crop up that Jennifer is trying to have sex with the entire male population of Devil’s Kettle. It’s whatever. Jennifer might not want to go to Prom, but even she can admit she looks fucking hot in her dress.

She sneaks out before her mom can make noises about pictures, arriving at Amy’s house with corsage in hand. Amy looks hot in her tux, all black and cut to show off her slender figure. She’s left her hair down and her makeup is flawless (as usual).

“Goth girls are so hot,” Jennifer says as Amy lets her in. “You sure I can’t get lucky today?” She hands over the corsage and then flicks the matching boutonniere pinned to her dress.

Amy rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind Jennifer. “Hell no.”

Jennifer pouts and raises a hand to brush a thumb over Amy’s lip piercing.

“Hello, Jennifer.”

“Mrs. Gray,” Jennifer greets as she moves away from Amy. Auburn-haired, blue-eyed, and softly feminine, Mrs. Gray is the near epitome of a Norman Rockwell mother.

Mrs. Gray squints at Jennifer, then holds up a camera. “Pictures. Now. No arguments.”

Both Jennifer and Amy mumble under their breath, but as they’re made to pose, Jennifer sees Amy smile.

“You both look beautiful,” Mrs. Gray comments as the camera flashes.

Amy squeezes Jennifer’s hand. Jennifer wonders, briefly, what it’s like to have a mom that loves unconditionally. They exchange some small talk, then she and Amy are settling in Amy’s car. They _could_ walk, but neither wants to be at the dance any longer than they have to be.

“I’m still surprised you didn’t come with one of your little goth groupies.” Jennifer crosses and uncrosses her legs, wondering if the drive to school had ever been so long. “They seem even more obsessed with you since you grew your hair out.”

“Blergh.” Amy makes a face like she’s smelled something gross. “It’s just like a fetish to them. It annoys me, more than anything.” She pauses. “You sure you’ll be okay seeing _them_ there tonight?” By her tone, Jennifer knows she’s not speaking about goth groupies.

Jennifer holds her breath, wondering if she should pretend not to know who _they_ are. She breathes out, knowing Amy is the one person she doesn’t have to pretend with. “Okay? Don’t know. I’ll live.”

“Drama queen,” Amy says affectionately.

“Says the _goth_.”

They smile at one another, but give each other nervous looks when Amy parks the car.

“I’m not dancing, by the way.”

“The hell you’re not.” Jennifer adjusts her dress straps as they get out of the car. “We both look way too hot not to show off.”

Amy laughs and shakes her head. “Whatever.”

*

The school gym is underwhelming, even with all the balloons and decorations trying to dress it up. Amy tenses up the first time someone calls her Colin. “This is the last night,” Amy whispers excitedly when Jennifer steals her away for their first dance. “Then no more pretending.”

It’s on the tip of Jennifer’s tongue to say that women still have to pretend a lot to get by, but she doesn’t. She’ll let Amy have this night. They both need it.

They get some punch after a while—which Jennifer spikes with a small flask from her purse—and sit down at an empty table.

Though they do it often enough, they end up talking about what the end of the night will mean for their futures. Amy made it into several colleges but opted for State to save money, so they’re planning to drive down to Mankato to check out apartments the following day.

After their second cup of punch, Amy lets it slip that she does actually have feelings for one of the other goth girls she knows. It takes Jennifer all of two seconds to talk over whatever excuses Amy has to shove her in the direction of the girl (Lydia Young, a sweet petite girl that Jennifer thinks is really cute).

She watches Amy’s progress, and isn’t surprised when Lydia’s face lights up. Though Amy has mixed feelings about her old group, Jennifer also knows that Amy’s a smart girl. Lydia seems the most genuine of the bunch and, as long as she’s good to Amy, has Jennifer’s approval.

As happy as she feels when Amy and Lydia head out to the dance floor, the old familiar emptiness creeps up on her. She waits until she’s sure Amy is in good hands, then slips out the side door.

It’s a beautiful night, the stars and moon shining brightly in the blue-black sky. She wanders away from the gym until the rustling of her dress is louder than the music.

This time last year she and Needy had stayed home, just the two of them. They’d dressed up, turned music on, and made out as much as they’d danced.

It’s a beautiful memory.

She chuckles and takes a sip from her flask, ignoring the salty tinge to the vodka. Needy had come with Chip, of course.

Of course.

Amy had done her best to keep them on the opposite side of the gym, but there’s only so many people at the dance. Jennifer imagines in a fairytale world, Needy would come and find her out here alone and sweep her away with sweet words and kisses.

She raises her flask to the moon. She’s no princess, and this is no fairytale.

If it were, she’d probably be the evil stepsister. She laughs to herself and drinks some more, her hand absently drifting to the empty spot around her neck.

The evil stepsister doesn’t get the happy ending.

Well, she isn’t ready for her story to end anyway. So, fuck that. Maybe she’ll never be a perfect princess, but she knows she can do better. She can be happy. She just needs time to figure things out.

And, for better or worse, she has time now.

***

It’s a little after midnight when she gets home. Her parents are out, no doubt trying to relive the happier memories of their own prom night.

She doesn’t dwell on their failing marriage long, instead grateful for the peace of her solitude. Jennifer had given Amy her blessing to stay with Lydia, with a reminder that they could always drive to Mankato on Sunday.

Jennifer doesn’t want to stay in Devil’s Kettle, but she can spare another day for Amy. It’s not like they’ll be moving right away, though Jennifer feels the need to leave like an insistent itch.

The stairs creak as she makes her way up to her room. She wonders if she’ll miss that sound after a while, the familiarity of her childhood in those small sounds.

She doubts it.

High heels dangling from her left hand, she absently flicks the lights on with her right.

“Jen.”

She stiffens and reaches back for the door. She should leave, or tell Needy to leave. They shouldn’t be alone together.

“Jen, wait. Please.”

Looking at Needy is her undoing, just like it always is. Needy’s elaborate updo is undone, her blonde hair down around her shoulders, her cheeks pink and her gorgeous blue eyes rimmed with red.

“Needy, this isn’t a good idea,” Jennifer says in a voice that’s barely a whisper.

Needy wraps her arms around herself and begins pacing in small circles. She’s still in her puffy pink dress, but Jennifer can’t smile or laugh at how adorable she is because she’s too scared of what they ~~might~~ will do.

“No, I know. I know, Jen. But,” she stops to look at Jen, “as many times as I’ve dreamed about getting out of this town, leaving everything behind I—it’s here. It’s time. This is it. This is _it_.”

Though they aren’t really speaking, the gossip has made the rounds. Needy, against Chip’s wishes, will be spending the summer abroad. It had been a surprise gift from Needy’s mom, having taken years of restraint and extra shifts.

The twisting in Jennifer’s stomach stops. A serenity descends on her. Acceptance. “Yes, Needy. This is it. After tonight, you’re free.”

Needy’s mouth opens and closes, her attention still on Jennifer.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Jennifer adds.

Then, without warning, they’re rushing toward one another. Jennifer braces for the impact, wondering how long it’ll take for her to pick up the pieces after this time.

But Needy’s hands are soft, her lips pliant. She caresses Jennifer carefully.

They undress slowly, dresses and lace falling like petals from a flower. Jennifer sighs when Needy is finally above her, dizzy with the feel of their bare skin pressed together. She can’t remember the last time they were like this and, hours later, she knows they never will have this again.

She falls asleep with tears painting her pillow, aware that Needy will be gone when she wakes up. Maybe this is something like what they could have been, once.

The night of Prom, Jennifer learns what ‘goodbye’ truly feels like.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

_Nineteen, Twenty - Jennifer Loves Girls_

* * *

“Shit.” Jennifer frowns as she digs through a pile of clothes. She’d meant to put her laundry away last night but Amy had conned her into a quick run to the store. “Aha!”

She carefully works the slate grey sweater free, passing a hand over it to smooth out any wrinkles before pulling it on.

“You’re gonna be late!” Amy calls from the living room.

“Thanks, Mom!” She pauses. “Did you take your titty skittles?”

“Thanks for the reminder, dear,” Amy sing-songs back.

Jennifer chuckles and gathers her backpack, tugging both straps over her shoulders. If Jennifer’s mom could see her, she’d have a small heart attack. Non-skintight jeans, a baggy sweater, and almost no makeup? She hadn’t bothered messing with her hair beyond tying it back, either.

“Nerd,” Amy teases as Jennifer crosses the living room.

“You’re damn right,” Jennifer affirms with her head high as she closes the door behind herself. She contemplates taking the car, but decides on her bike. She still has enough time. The ride to campus is lovely, and she wants to enjoy the crisp fall air while she can.

College is crazy and difficult and amazing. Well, if she’s being honest, the best part about it is how different it is. Like Amy, she’s taken the opportunity to reinvent herself. In Devil’s Kettle, her role had already been decided for her. She had to dress and act a certain way.

Here? Well, it’s a new world. She might be the same person, but she has room to grow.

“Hey babe.”

Jennifer mentally perks up as she secures her bike. She’s smiling when she turns to face Sarah. “Hey.”

Sarah grins back at her and leans in for a kiss, which Jennifer is happy to tilt her head up for. Sarah’s short hair is half in her face; Jennifer has to resist the urge to push the auburn strands back behind her ear (Sarah doesn’t like having her face touched without warning).

Jennifer _has_ grown here. Though, she is nervous about dating Sarah. Not for any of the reasons she would have had her first year—the campus LGBT+ group has done wonders for Jennifer’s understanding of herself—but for the fact it’s her first relationship since high school. She doesn’t want to mess it up.

“Wanna meet up for lunch after class?” Sarah asks as they walk towards the liberal arts buildings.

Jennifer worries her lower lip. “I want to check over my Statistics homework, so only if you don’t mind me being distracted.” When Sarah lags behind, she slows and turns.

“Statistics? I thought you checked that over last night?” Sarah is frowning.

“Well, I was _going_ to.” Jennifer mentally grumbles about her pile of clean clothes, too. “Amy talked me into going to the store with her and time kind of just evaporated after that.”

“Huh. Okay. Yeah, that’s fine.”

Jennifer studies her face, wondering at the crease still between her brows and the slight downturn of her lips. A flutter of discomfort hits her stomach. Old Jennifer would ignore this and hope for the best. She gently clears her throat. “You don’t seem like that’s fine?”

Sarah blinks and shakes her head. “Oh? No, sorry. I was trying to figure out if I would be any help. I barely passed Statistics.” She begins walking again, bumping her elbow into Jennifer’s when she catches up.

They exchange small talk as they proceed down the walk. Halfway to their goal, a flash of blonde hair up ahead to their left distracts Jennifer. Last year, she might have stopped and wondered. Now it’s just an absent, habitual recognition.

She knows Anita is back from Europe, finally. Or had it been Canada? Jennifer only skims her mother’s texts at the best of times, but she does glean little bits of gossip from them. Regardless, as many times as she’s seen blonde girls on campus, none of them are ever Anita.

They reach the main building, and a last glance confirms this isn’t Anita, either. She’s relieved.

It’s been over a year. The hurts have been fading steadily, helped along by a little counseling and the change of scenery. Still, a small part of her aches.

She hasn’t seen Anita Lesnicki in over a year. What had seemed impossible at ten, fourteen, even eighteen—is her life. Anita is gone and she’s still able to get up in the morning, put one foot in front of the other. She laughs, she cries, and the world keeps moving.

They reach a juncture in the atrium, and Sarah bends to kiss her cheek.

“Text me?” Sarah asks with a hopeful look.

“Absolutely.”

She smiles and so does Jennifer. With a small wave, they go their separate ways. Sarah is new and different. They’re still getting to know one another.

The aching part of Jennifer that still misses Anita is smaller every day. She doesn’t think it’ll ever completely fade, but that’s something she can live with.

***

A week and a half before the end of October, the unthinkable happens. As big as the campus is, Jennifer had been certain it was nigh impossible.

Their reunion (if it can be called that) occurs during a quick jaunt to the bookstore between classes. After lending out one pen too many, she isn’t prepared for when her last one runs out of ink. At least not when she only has ten minutes ‘til her next class. With Sarah and Amy busy, she opts for the convenient choice.

The only problem with the campus bookstore besides some of the prices being arbitrarily inflated, is that it’s incredibly popular. Jennifer exchanges a few quick smiles with people she recognizes from class as she winds her way through the aisles to the writing supplies.

She absently clocks a blonde girl near the register, and another near the Bio textbooks. She doesn’t notice the one that comes in from her left, just on the edge of her blind spot.

“Where are—ah-ha.” With a smile she finds her preferred brand, ink (gel), and thickness (.5mm). There are cheaper options but Jennifer does enough longhand writing to indulge herself. It helps that she and Amy will be taking on another roommate soon.

As she turns to hurry over to the checkout, she bumps into someone. “Oops, my b… ad.”

She isn’t sure who’s more surprised. Anita’s blue eyes, no longer hidden behind glasses, are wide. The ponytail is still the same. Jennifer’s throat works for a moment. Her stomach swoops and twists, and she tries to ignore the sudden warmth she feels. Those bodily responses are a lie. Well, maybe not a lie, but not anything good.

Anita remains silent.

Heart pounding in her ears, Jennifer smiles awkwardly and continues to the checkout.

Later when she and Sarah are having lunch, she reminds herself that a statistical improbability isn’t the same as an impossibility.

She really does hate statistics.

***

By the fifth time she accidentally runs into Anita, Jennifer isn’t surprised anymore. The first year of their schism had been absolute purely because Anita wasn’t here. Now, even with the presumed difference in their schedules, the communal spaces on campus substantiate that little is absolute.

Jennifer is still grateful for that year.

It makes catching the occasional glimpse more tolerable. Her breath only catches half of the time, and she’s usually able to salvage her reactions before Amy, Sarah, or anyone else can realize anything is amiss.

Neither she nor Anita ever approach one another, a certain wariness between them when their eyes incidentally meet.

Then comes the day when, her fingers tangled with Sarah’s, she pulls free of a quick kiss to find Anita’s eyes flickering in their direction. She stares back a beat longer than she should, and then Sarah’s head turns.

Jennifer registers Anita’s quickly shuttered panic a moment before Sarah tilts her head and inquires, “Can I help you?”

Anita doesn’t blush. She rubs her face and scrunches up her nose. “No, sorry. I swear I’m not homophobic or anything—”

Briefly, Jennifer contemplates letting Anita go on, but she can feel Sarah stiffen. She squeezes Sarah’s hand. “She’s telling the truth.” A pause. “I know her from school back in Devil’s Kettle.” Another pause. “Sarah, meet Anita. Anita, this is Sarah.”

Sarah’s change in mood is immediate. “Oh.” Her smile is relaxed. “Hey.”

Startled that Sarah hasn’t put two and two together (she’s talked about her tumultuous first relationship with a girl in their LGBT+ group), Jennifer realizes that she’s always said “Needy” rather than “Anita.”

“Hey back. I’m super sorry if it seemed like I was staring. I really, really wasn’t.” Anita does blush now, but she’s also smiling.

“No, it’s cool.” Sarah glances at Jennifer. “I’m sure it’s a surprise. Jennifer mentioned she wasn’t out in high school.”

Anita’s smile tightens. “Not many people were.”

Sarah’s gaydar is much better than Jennifer’s. It’s probably why she angles her chin and says, “Hey, we were about to grab a coffee. Wanna join us?”

“I don’t think—”

“That’s not su—”

Jennifer and Anita say at the same time. They share a look, and Jennifer quiets.

“That’s really nice of you,” Anita explains, “but I can’t.”

“Maybe another time,” Sarah gently persists.

“Sure,” Anita says in a way that Jennifer knows actually means, “Not at all.”

They wave and then Anita thankfully disappears from view.

“Amy’s joining us, at least,” Jennifer reminds her as they continue heading to the cafeteria.

“She is?” Sarah gently begins swinging their still-joined hands.

“Yeah, you forgot? She’s bringing pie. It’s her mom’s recipe, which is _super_ delicious.”

Sarah hums, but doesn’t say anything more until they reach the cafeteria.

***

A week later at a much deserved post-midterm party, Amy finds her in the line for the bathroom.

“Hey,” Jennifer greets with a grin. They’d come to the party separately, Jennifer having caught a ride with Sarah. “Hey,” Amy returns as she grabs Jen’s arm and pulls her into the bathroom.

Jennifer frowns but allows herself to be pulled. “Okay, like, but I really have to pee so let me go first.” They’ve been roommates long enough that Jennifer only minds sharing the turn a little.

Amy blinks, then swivels to face the door. “Oh, shit. Right. Hurry up.” She covers her ears and hums to herself, and Jennifer can only roll her eyes and quickly do her business. She’d dressed up for the party, so shimmying her tight skirt up takes a little longer.

After washing her hands, she taps Amy’s shoulder. “K, you can go.”

“Oh, I’m good.”

“What, really? The hell did you come in here for then?”

“Lydia thinks we’re fucking,” Amy blurts out. Jennifer blinks hard once. Twice. “What?”

“I thought we’d worked this out and that she was cool with everything, but I don’t know. She texted me like fifteen minutes ago and said she’s not sure she should move in.”

“Oh my god! You’re like a sister to me.”

“I mean, a sister you _used_ to fuck but whatever.”

“Don’t say it like that, what the fuck. But also, _what the fuck_. I have Sarah!”

Amy crosses her arms. “I know! I don’t know what’s up with this. We’ve been living together for so long and she and I talked this out forever ago.”

Even though she’d only had a drink and a half, Jennifer feels a headache starting. “God, I thought this shit was left behind in high school. I thought she liked me now.”

Knowing the alcohol she’s consumed is making her feel more emotional than usual, Jennifer does her best to tamp down on old instincts.

“I should have known she wasn’t actually cool with our friendship. I mean, who would be?” Amy raises her arm to chew on her thumb, her many bracelets jangling with the movement.

Jennifer holds up a hand. “Wait,” she says after another minute. “Invite her down. Tonight. I bet you some of your old crowd has been messing with her head. Lydia knows you. She knows better than this.”

Loud knocking on the door reminds them both about the line of people still waiting, and Amy sighs. “I’m going to head outside and call Lydia. I’ll let you know what happens.”

With a nod, they depart and separate. Sarah had promised to freshen up Jen’s drink while she was away, but that had been a little over ten minutes ago. It takes Jen another few minutes to find her.

The moment she does, she deflates. Sarah, Jennifer’s red cup in hand, has apparently cornered Anita. Jennifer hadn’t gotten around to explaining the awkward encounter with Anita other than to say she, Amy, and Jennifer used to be friends. It’s not that Jen wanted to lie, she’d just been feeling off since. Having Anita back in her world, even peripherally, had only felt real once they’d spoken—and they’d _barely_ spoken. Of course Sarah’s natural curiosity has arisen.

If the way Sarah is leaning toward Anita is any indication, her curiosity has yet to be sated.

She firms her resolve and heads straight for Sarah. Before she can reach them, however, Sarah suddenly lurches off to the side.

Anita, looking startled, manages to catch her before she can stumble face first into the wall. Jennifer rushes the last few steps.

“Sarah? Hun?” she inquires as she presses a hand to Sarah’s back.

Sarah bows her head, blindly trying to put Jen’s drink down. “I don’t feel so good.”

“She seemed fine a minute ago. I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

Jennifer holds her breath as she attempts to process Anita’s concern. “She’s the DD tonight, I don’t know either.”

“H-hurts,” Sarah grunts as she clutches her abdomen.

“Oh god, okay, that’s not—Sarah has an insane tolerance for pain. I need to get her to a doctor.” She fumbles in her bra for her phone. “I need to call an ambulance.”

“We can take my car. It’ll be faster,” Anita interjects.

Jennifer stops digging in her bra. “Are you sure?”

“I haven’t been drinking. Come on, let’s get her out of here.”

Jennifer barely hesitates. “Okay, yeah.”

They both take positions under each of Sarah’s respective arms, keeping her upright as the pain seemingly intensifies. It takes a few minutes to get her out and into the back seat of Anita’s little Honda.

“It’s going to be okay.” Jennifer holds Sarah close as Anita starts up the car and pulls out.

*

Thirty minutes later, she helplessly watches as Sarah, curled up in a ball, is escorted away. They’d gotten to the hospital in record time, but Jennifer had been left filling out paperwork as they waited in the ER. At least it had been a slow night.

“She’s going to be fine, Jen.”

Jennifer freezes and curls her arms tighter around herself. She licks her lips, but eventually manages to turn her attention to Anita.

Anita is standing barely an arm’s length away, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans. A marvelous feat, considering how tight they look.

“Thank you,” Jennifer says when she manages to get her voice working. “You don’t have to stay.”

Looking unsure, Anita shrugs. “I mean, I’m already here. As long as you’re okay with it, I’d like to stick around to make sure she’s okay. She seems nice.”

Not knowing what to say, Jennifer nods once. They stare at one another for a beat before Anita gestures to the waiting room, which is empty except for a guy who’s fallen asleep near the TV.

She picks the chair closest to the door and tries not to react when Anita takes the seat next to her.

Jennifer takes the time to check her phone. She’d texted Amy, but still hasn’t gotten a response. Given the drama from earlier, Jennifer isn’t necessarily surprised. Knowing how Amy and Lydia are, it’s likely they’re still talking.

Dubious about starting a conversation with her present company, she finds things on her phone to occupy her time.

“I’m sorry.”

Mid-Tetris, Jennifer stiffens. “Um,” she licks her lips as she tries to concentrate on the small screen. “What?” She watches in a daze as the shapes drop one after another and ‘game over’ flashes into view.

“I’m sorry,” Anita repeats. “Without dredging all of it up. I, just… I’m sorry.”

Jennifer runs her thumb over her phone in an attempt to ground herself. She doesn’t want to be here.

“I know this timing is shitty, I just didn’t know if we’d ever speak again after this.”

Jennifer really, really doesn’t want to be here. It’s selfish of Anita to do this now, but Jennifer can’t say she hasn’t thought of it herself. It’s something that pops up into her head at night as she’s trying to fall asleep, usually without her permission. So even though she’s worried about Sarah, she takes a deep breath.

“It’s fine. We both fucked up. Don’t carry it around with you. It’s a weight neither of us needs.” She sighs. “But, in case you need to hear it, I’m sorry too.”

They’re quiet for a while, and then, “So how was Europe, anyway?”

Anita looks surprised, but begins to talk in a low voice. Though it’s been a long time, and things hadn’t been good for even longer, it’s clear Jennifer is in need of a distraction. “Well…”

A few hours later they learn (through Sarah’s sister since the hospital refuses to tell Jennifer anything) that Sarah has had an appendectomy.

Anita gives her a ride home in silence. It’s not comfortable, but it’s okay.

She makes it to bed sometime after four in the morning

***

At the beginning of December, Sarah breaks up with her. Sarah cites a lack of spark between them, and almost immediately starts dating another girl.

Jennifer isn’t completely heartbroken, but it hurts. She wonders if the split had come because she hadn’t been ready for sex, despite all Sarah’s assurances that waiting was fine.

Either way, Jennifer is glad they weren’t intimate. She’d never minded sleeping with boys because they’d never mattered. They had only ever been tools to reinforce her fragile confidence or get back at Needy.

Maybe Jennifer’s confidence is still a little flimsy, but she’s determined to do things right this time. She wants to be with someone who genuinely values her. Perhaps Sarah had, but not enough.

Her opinion changes after she discovers Sarah had intended to break up with her the night of the appendectomy. Asshole.

Lydia moves in shortly after Jennifer is dumped. It’s inconvenient for her though she doesn’t say it. It’s difficult nursing a bruised heart while living with a (mostly) happy couple. There are some growing pains since it’s the first time Lydia and Amy have cohabitated.

A teeny tiny part of Jennifer is glad that they’re not _all_ sunshine and rainbows. That part of her is kind of an asshole, but the best she can do is never bring it up. She gets a seasonal job earlier than usual to combat the negative feelings. Retail is dreadful but it gets her out of the apartment _and_ she gets paid for it.

Barnes and Noble isn’t quite the worst when she also gets discounted coffee and books out of it—not that she reads that much beyond what’s required for class, but it scores points with Lydia.

Sometimes Anita comes in, but they only exchange polite small talk. It’s… weird but fine.

As finals and the end of semester loom, Jennifer debates going home for the holidays. She’s spent all the big ones with Amy’s family since leaving Devil’s Kettle, with only brief obligatory visits to her own parents.

This year, she thinks maybe it’s best to give Lydia more time. It won’t hurt to keep working through next semester.

When Amy agrees with her assessment, she experiences a loneliness she can’t describe. The feeling worsens so much that she considers keeping some of the phone numbers she’s given at work. They’re predominantly from men, though, and she’s pretty certain the lone woman that had attempted to pick her up was married.

“Self respect sucks sometimes,” she mumbles while shelving some new releases.

“Jennifer.”

She straightens and hopes her manager didn’t overhear her. “Yes ma’am?”

Stephanie, a much older woman with smooth dusky skin and curves to die for (total MILF status in Jen’s book), is trying not to smile. Whether it’s from the _ma’am_ or Jen’s somewhat embarrassing comment, Jen can’t be sure. “I have to make a call to Corporate and this customer needs assistance.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jennifer repeats with an exaggerated nod.

Stephanie chuckles and leaves, and Jen perks up because it’s been a shit day and Steph has a great laugh.

It’s only then that Jen realizes the customer is Anita.

Anita winces when their eyes meet. “Sorry, I was trying not to bother you.”

There’s a faint twinge of something in Jennifer’s chest. She ignores it. “No worries. Better you than someone trying to hit on me.”

Despite what pretty much everyone that tries it thinks, she really doesn’t find it flattering. She clears her throat when Anita doesn’t respond. “So, what can I help you with?”

Anita fidgets with the edge of her sweater. It’s a nice shade of grey that somehow makes her blue eyes pop more than usual. “Well, I came to pick up a book I’d ordered but it turns out it wasn’t the right one.”

“Okay. First, let’s see if we have what you need in stock.”

It takes roughly twenty minutes to get Anita’s situation sorted, but Jennifer doesn’t mind. Anita is easy to work with and it’s gotten Jen all that much closer to the end of her shift.

“Thanks for all your help,” Anita says as Jennifer is bagging her purchases.

“No problem.” Jennifer had, out of habit, given Anita her employee discount.

Anita accepts the bag and then glances around. Rather than leaving, she makes her way to the Starbucks section. Jen pretends not to notice as she rings up the next customer. She hadn’t finished shelving the books earlier, but Jeremy had swapped off the register when he’d seen her helping Anita.

Jennifer stifles a sigh but doesn’t complain. She’s good with people even if she kinda hates them. She takes her break just before closing time, wanting to savor some fresh tea before cleaning up for the night.

When she accepts the hot drink from Helen, she’s surprised when she turns and finds Anita still tucked away at a corner table with her new book.

If Jennifer chooses the far table, Anita might get the wrong idea. Sitting too close to her would also be bad. Conflicted, Jen ends up picking the table right in the middle of the most foot traffic and immediately regrets her decision. The worst of the Christmas craze hasn’t started, but she gets jostled enough to become severely irritated before she’s taken her first sip.

She stands and turns toward the furthest unoccupied table. It’s no longer unoccupied. As her break continues to dwindle, she makes a slow turn to where Anita’s seated.

Her breathing stutters when she finds Anita looking her way.

Anita tilts her head towards her empty chair. Jennifer knows she should just head to the back and try to find a crate or set of boxes to sit on.

Instead, she finds herself moving to accept the invitation. Her break is only so long and she hasn’t even tasted her tea.

“It’s almost closing time,” she says quietly as she sits. She remains on the edge of the chair, ready to leave as soon as she needs to.

Anita nods. “I know. It’s comfortable here, though.”

Jennifer mirrors her nod and cups both hands around her cup. The heat she can feel through the sleeve grounds her. She peels the lid open and softly blows. The first sip is divine.

“Jen,” Anita starts after a few minutes have passed. “I know you’re working now, but I was wondering if we could talk after. You can absolutely say no and I’d understand.”

It’s another Jennifer knows she shouldn’t do. Enough counseling sessions have shown her that she and ~~Needy~~ Anita never had a healthy relationship. And, still…

‘No’ doesn’t feel impossible, but it feels wrong. Losing Anita has felt a lot like she imagines losing a limb. It’s a phantom pain, that part of herself simply _gone_ every day. She’s been trying to survive on the good memories when necessary. It’s not the same.

She’s not the same, either. Maybe it’ll be okay just to see if Anita’s changed, too.

Her silence having gone on longer than she realized, Anita begins packing her things up.

“Thank you again for helping with my book earlier.”

Jennifer blinks hard, and then takes a deep breath. “There’s a diner a block over. Sometimes I go there for a late dinner after work.”

Anita freezes, then slowly focuses on Jennifer. “Yeah?”

“I’ll be there about a half hour after closing. I won’t take it personally if you’re not there.” A final out for Anita, if she needs it. Maybe if Jen needs it.

“Okay.” Anita gives her an attentive smile, then finishes putting a last book in her backpack. “I’ll see you then.”

Jennifer takes another drink from her cup and watches Anita go. Is she making a mistake? She’ll find out soon enough.

*

The mundane routine of closing goes by faster than usual, and Jennifer tries not to hold her breath for the entire trek to the diner. She isn’t sure what she wants to happen. She doesn’t like the medley of anticipation and fear twisting around in her stomach. Because, really, which is it?

Disappointment steals her first inhale when she doesn’t see Anita at any of the booths, only a few of which are occupied. Consternation interrupts the second when Anita peers over at her from the counter. The counter means they’ll be sitting closer, but won’t have to look at one another.

Jennifer isn’t sure which she prefers. She unloops the scarf from around her neck and takes the stool next to Anita’s.

“Hey,” Anita greets as Jennifer settles in.

“Hey.” Jennifer’s voice is quiet because she doesn’t know what else to say.

A waiter she recognizes stops in front of them, and Jennifer orders a grilled chicken sandwich and fries out of habit. She adds a milkshake at the last moment.

Anita orders waffles and glances her way. She’s smiling.

Jennifer crosses her arms. “What?”

“You eat junk food now.”

“Oh. Um, yeah.” Jennifer rolls her lips together and acts like she doesn’t feel Anita’s eyes still on her. “Fries were my gateway. Then it was all milkshakes and pie after that.”

Anita laughs, low and soft.

Jennifer’s skin tingles at the sound. It’s been so long since she’s heard it. That laugh was the one she’d only ever heard in private, when no one else could experience it. Jennifer used to often wonder if Anita laughed that way with Chip.

“Amy?” Anita guesses.

“Yeah.” She still can’t look directly at Anita for whatever reason, and is glad they’re not in a booth. “She got me to try cake bites about a month ago.”

Anita shifts on her stool, her knee accidentally brushing Jennifer’s leg. Jennifer pretends like it doesn’t happen.

“What did you think?” There’s a pause as Jennifer’s mind falters. “Of the cake bites,” Anita clarifies.

Right, of course. Anita probably hadn’t even realized their legs had touched. Melancholy makes Jennifer’s response come even slower. “Sticky. Sweet. Not something I’d have all the time, but I could see having them as a treat once in a while.”

Their drinks arrive and Jennifer is grateful for the interruption. This had been a mistake, and if she isn’t careful, she’ll make a fool of herself. Again. She doesn’t want to go back to the lonely lesbian Jennifer who slept with boys so her not-quite-girlfriend wouldn’t panic over the fact that they might be gay. Well, Jennifer _knows_ she’s gay now. She can’t speak for Anita.

Silence remains between them as Jennifer sips her milkshake. Soon after, their meals arrive. They make comments on the food and the Christmas music playing, but not much else. The tension in Jennifer’s shoulders eases. She meant it when she’d told Anita it isn’t fair to carry old weight around—advice she needs to heed. They’ve been civil to each other, bordering on pleasant until now.

Their plates are eventually cleared and Jennifer orders water. Anita opts for some coffee (decaf) that makes Jennifer wonder when she’d begun to like the taste of it.

“You know, growing up, you always baffled me.”

Jennifer straightens but doesn’t verbally respond. Instead, she curls both hands around her half-finished water and waits.

“You acted so confident around everyone, but in private you would ask me what people thought about this and that. Then for certain other things, you seemed so genuinely confident that I couldn't tell what was real or not.” Anita takes a sip of her coffee. “Like us. You used to say we were inevitable. We were bound for life.” She lowers her voice. “I hated that for the longest time.”

It doesn’t hurt as much as Jennifer thought it would. Maybe it’s even a relief to hear. “Obviously, I was just pulling that out of my ass. Nothing is certain,” she flatly retorts. _You taught me that_ , she wants to add, but knows that voice comes from spite. It’s not like Jennifer had ever really believed in fairy tales. ~~Needy~~ Anita had always just made her want to.

“No, but here’s the thing, Jen. You were right. At least partly.”

Jennifer hears the clinking of Anita’s coffee cup against the saucer, but remains focused on her own sweating glass of water. She presses her thumb through the condensation, admiring the different patterns that emerge in its wake. She isn’t sure she wants to hear this.

“It took me a long time to realize that, no matter what, we _are_ bound to one another.”

“No we’re not,” Jennifer snaps, her head swiveling to finally face Anita.

“Jen, please let me finish.” Anita’s blue eyes are pleading.

Jennifer takes a slow breath and returns her attention to her drink.

“We have so many shared experiences, Jen. We _grew up_ together, for better or worse. For so long I couldn’t tell where you ended and I began. I know that wasn’t always healthy, but it didn’t feel wrong until I let myself think about it too much.”

Again, Jennifer wants to interrupt. She begins slowly twisting her glass instead.

“What I want to say, Jennifer, is that I miss you. I miss you so much.”

Jennifer’s stomach clenches. She starts bouncing her leg and can’t look at Anita. “Okay. I don’t know what that means.”

“It means that, if you want to, I’d like to start over again. We’ve both had some space and time to grow up a little.”

Before she can finish, Jennifer is already shaking her head. “No.” Emotion leaps up her throat, and she glares at Anita. “No. I’m out now, Anita, as you’ve seen. I can’t pretend like I’m not gay. There’s too much history there, as you just pointed out.”

“That’s not,” Anita starts, then tries to form more as no sounds emerge from her lips. “I came out as Bi like a minute after I got home.”

Part of Jennifer softens, if only a little. “Good. I’m glad for you. I still can’t do it. I don’t think I can be your friend again.”

For a moment, Anita doesn’t speak. She sighs, and then something clatters onto the counter.

Jennifer’s breath catches. Two scuffed little hearts with ‘BFF’ engraved are hanging from the same chain. “You took it?” she asks when she finds her voice again. “I couldn’t find it after that night.”

“Yeah,” Anita says with a humorless laugh. “Pretty messed up, right?”

“I don’t know.” Jennifer stares at the tiny charms, her fingertips brushing them before she realizes what she’s doing. Her heart pounds when Anita’s fingers start doing the same. She becomes aware of the warmth at her side, the faint _almost_ contact of their hands.

“I don’t want to be your friend, Jen. I mean, I do, but… Jen, I’d like to try and do things right. I’d like to date you.”

Jennifer shudders when their knuckles finally touch. “Like, publicly?” she asks faintly. It’s a terrible, wonderful feeling. “We might mess things up again. Slip into old habits.” All she’d ever wanted was for Needy to want her in the same way she’d wanted Needy: publicly, unashamedly. Not a dirty little secret to be denied at every turn.

“That could happen. I won’t lie. But we’re different now, aren’t we? I know I am.”

It’s too much for Jennifer. She feels like she can’t breathe, choking on smoke that isn’t there.

Then Anita takes her hand, thumb tightening against the back of it with just enough pressure to ground Jennifer. One thing hasn’t changed.

Jennifer chokes out a laugh. Her face feels itchy, and when she scrubs at with her free hand it comes away wet. “Not that different,” Jennifer eventually whispers.

“Maybe different enough?” Anita suggests just as quietly.

Their eyes connect and Jennifer knows that as much as the decision is hers, it isn’t a decision at all. Even if things don’t work again, she can’t stand not knowing.

When Anita leans closer, Jennifer holds her breath. A tender, lingering kiss is pressed to her temple. Her eyes flutter closed. “Slowly. Please.”

“I can do slow,” Anita promises.

Despite their history and everything it entails (or maybe because of it), Jennifer finds herself believing her. “Okay.”

When Anita kisses her temple again, a warm, wondrous feeling blossoms in her chest. Hope. She decides to allow herself this feeling, if only for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have good news and bad news. The good news: we made it to the final chapter! The bad news: it might feel like it needs a little epilogue. Well, I'm not sure if anyone else but me will feel like that's bad news, but... xD
> 
> I do have genuine work to do on my next actual book, but we'll see.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! It's been a bit since I mentioned writing this, but that's just how long it took me to finish this draft of my latest book. *heavy sweating*
> 
> Anyway, I ended up thinking about these two a lot again today, and it felt like the right time to get to this epilogue. This has been a passion project of mine which I started right before a great personal tragedy, so the fact that I finished *and* got to this epilogue feels like a triumph. There's a freedom in fanfic I can't describe.
> 
> The first part of this is in past tense on purpose, and transitions to present tense on purpose. Please don't comment how you think this story could be better if did this or that. This is the one place I allow myself to write completely freely, completely the way I want. Go write your own if it doesn't meet your criteria! (You know who you are. Don't comment. I'll delete them again.)

* * *

_Twenty, ∞ - Anita Loves Jennifer_

* * *

It had taken Anita all of a week in Europe to break up with Chip. The ease with which she did it stunned even her. Chip was very sweet, of that there was no denying. Without the added element of Jennifer, however, she realized that’s all he was. She liked him well enough, but that was it.

How she felt for him was nothing like how she felt for Jennifer; he was a calm port in a raging tempest. She’d never expected Jennifer to walk away first. For all the resentment she’d felt, she hadn’t been able to do it.

The last few months of school were… there. Bland. She went through the motions with Chip, trying to prepare herself for the life she’d planned so carefully. Jennifer had always grudgingly been a part of that plan.

By the time graduation and Prom hit, Anita felt like she was going to suffocate. Then her mom had surprised her with the plane ticket, spending money, and a general itinerary to get her started.

_“You’re so responsible, Needy. A good girl. You deserve this.”_ Even as she’d said it, Needy could see just how weary her mother was. Her mom had always wanted to travel, too. Then she’d gotten pregnant in college, and that had been that.

Chip had thrown a fit over the trip, and in some ways Needy couldn’t blame him. She’d appeased him with promises, but still stolen away from him the night of Prom. All the changes were coming too fast. She missed Jennifer.

Their last night together felt like one of the most significant things in Anita’s life. Long after she forgot about Chip, she still dreamt of that night of deep kisses and soft touches. So she traveled, tried new things. She kissed pretty boys and handsome girls, stayed out too late, and watched the sun rise in every country she visited. Her trip was extended by a month, then three, and then she was seeing more and more of the world, working odd jobs as needed.

No matter how far she went, Jennifer remained. She got to the point where she’d go days, even weeks, without thinking of her. Perhaps she’d finally escaped those old feelings, she’d think. Then she would imagine Jen standing next to her, laughing, the wind blowing her pretty dark hair around her shoulders in undulating waves.

Eventually she found her way to Canada, the closest to home she’d been in nearly a year. It was there she realized the reason she couldn’t escape Jennifer.

The truth was, she’d never wanted to. It was why Jennifer had walked away first. As much as she told herself she hated Jennifer (and sometimes she truly did), she’d also loved her beyond imagining. She’d been too scared to face her and admit that. She wasn’t sure she’d ever said it. Jennifer hadn’t, but she’d known that had been for her own sake, rather than a lack of feeling on Jen’s part.

Anita was finally ready to grow up, and that meant no more running. She bought a bus ticket the next day.

It wasn’t easy returning to a normal life, the one she’d planned before Jennifer had left her. Straightening things out for school was arduous, and Anita still wasn’t sure it would be a good fit. Once she was on campus it was easier. She loved learning, and everything had a different perspective after her trip.

She didn’t look up Jennifer. It didn’t seem right, not when her mom had mentioned how well Jennifer seemed to be flourishing at university, surprising nearly everyone in town. She’d always blamed Jennifer for holding her back. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding Jen back, too.

How different the world seemed from one day to the next. It stood to reason that, just when she had decided she needed to truly let go she, quite literally, ran right back into Jen.

*** ***

“Oops, my b… ad.”

She knows this face, this voice. They stare at one another. Jennifer’s hair is longer and still gorgeous, but she’s wearing less makeup than Anita is used to. God, is it possible she’s even more beautiful than Anita remembers?

Anita knows she should say something, but she can’t. She’d thought the intensity would have faded, that breathlessness she’s only ever experienced when she looks Jennifer in the eye. It hasn’t. Her body is a stupid, dumb traitor.

She’s been staring too long, because Jen offers her an awkward smile and walks away. Anita’s mouth opens to ask her to stay, then closes before she can utter a syllable. Jen has a good life. She won’t pull her back into the unhealthy mess that had been their relationship.

***

Anita has questioned thoughts of a higher power for most of her life. After she keeps running into Jennifer what feels like absolutely _everywhere_ , she decides that if there is a God, she’s a vindictive bitch. She then wonders if that thought is a product of internalized misogyny and stews about it all through her class on Feminist Theory.

She meets some casual friends from class and discusses the idea with them. They agree it probably is but also isn’t necessarily wrong.

Running into Jennifer almost seems like a test past a certain point. It happens way more than Jennifer probably even realizes, their eyes skirting away from one another on the rare chances that Anita doesn’t duck away before Jennifer spots her.

She feels like, whatever test it is, she’s passing with flying colors. Until she sees Jen with _Her_ , kissing in the quad. It feels like the ground has fallen out from under Anita’s feet. If she’d have figured things out for herself sooner, would that be them? Happy, healthy, and feeling free enough to kiss in public?

It’s a meaningless passing thought, one that she gets mad at herself for. She realizes that she’s stared too long when Jennifer’s girlfriend(?) tilts her head and shoots her an angry look. “Can I help you?” she asks. Her voice is a smooth alto, and if she weren’t holding on to Jennifer, Anita might think she was quite attractive.

Anita absently scrubs at her face, hoping her idiotic jealousy isn’t showing. Somewhat disgusted with herself (has she really changed at all?) she tries to explain her stupidity away. “No, sorry. I swear I’m not homophobic or anything—”

The exchange that follows is awkward, and Anita won’t remember it later, as focused as she is on trying not to be as big of an ass as she feels.

At the end of it when things are explained away as vaguely as possible, Jennifer gives her a relieved smile that makes a lump form in her throat.

The world didn’t end because they spoke, she wants to say but doesn’t. She watches Jennifer and Sarah walk away hand-in-hand and resolves to be happy for Jennifer. Later, as she meets her study group at the library, she also decides she needs to figure out a way to be happy, too.

It’s with that in mind that she accepts an invite to a party that will be held after the midterm crunch. She needs to blow off some steam, dammit.

***

Somewhere between helping Jennifer at the party (who wouldn’t?) and the next time they run into one another, Anita takes the hint that maybe whatever deity exists doesn’t hate her after all. She needs to see Jennifer to confront those things she’s been avoiding, even now. With that in mind, she begins talking to a counselor about the past. If the opportunity comes to be in a loving relationship—with anyone—Anita wants to be sure she’ll be ready.

Eventually she hears the rumors of Jen’s breakup with Sarah, and sees Sarah walking around with a different girl what feels like every week. Scumbag. She wants to say even _she_ could treat Jennifer better but isn’t sure if that’s a lie.

Then Jennifer begins working at Anita’s favorite place to study alone. She gives Jennifer space, but eventually takes the opportunity given. To say that her world changes when Jennifer agrees to try again is an understatement.

She’s never been more giddy. Or terrified. God(dess?), she’s going to fuck things up.

*

“So of all things, this is what you choose for our first date?” There’s a laugh in Jennifer’s voice waiting to be released.

Anita blushes in spite of herself and shrugs. They’re at the large movie theater in town, standing in one of the three long lines. Jennifer is casually gorgeous in a long tan coat belted at the waist, her hair down and the barest of makeup on her face. “Yep,” Anita says as she gathers her courage and reaches for Jennifer’s hand.

She’s ready for the way Jennifer freezes, keeping her fingertips in light contact with Jen’s wrist until she relaxes.

Jen inhales deeply, then twists her hand to accept the grip. Without looking at Anita, she focuses on the digital marquee showing all the movies and their showtimes.

It takes Anita back to when they were fifteen, the first time she and Jen had made love. It had been clumsy and sweet, and Anita had freaked out after. They’d already made arrangements to go to the movies in the next town over, and Anita couldn’t tell her mom why she suddenly wanted to cancel. Jennifer had been so happy—until Anita had rejected her subtle attempts to take her hand. That had been the beginning of when their relationship had truly derailed.

The line ahead of them moves forward a few paces, and so do they.

“You know,” Jennifer eventually says in a low voice, “I convinced myself for the longest time that I was over this. It didn’t matter anymore.”

Anita swallows, and then gently squeezes her hand. “I’m sorry.”

Jennifer shakes her head, finally meeting Anita’s eyes. “Don’t apologize. We were kids and Devil’s Kettle is, well, Devil’s Kettle. You were scared. So was I.” She scrunches her nose and smiles. “We’re not exactly fully mature yet, but we’re getting there, I hope. I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. I just wanted you to know that… I appreciate this, what you’re trying to do.”

“I know you still have misgivings. It’s understandable.”

She wants to say more but it’s their turn at the ticket booth. Jennifer’s laugh finally comes out when she insists on paying.

Jennifer beats her to the door to hold it open, then follows her in. As they settle in line at the concession stand, Jennifer kisses her cheek. “I’m buying the snacks.”

Anita wisely decides not to argue, her cheek still tingling from Jennifer’s kiss. As much time that has passed, it’s like none has at all. She hasn’t blushed this much in forever.

They cuddle for the entirety of the movie, Jen’s head resting on her shoulder half the time and their hands tangled together. It’s a mundane bliss that Anita knows she’ll probably take for granted someday, but she hopes that day is far off, if it ever comes.

In keeping with her attempts to overwrite old memories, she takes Jennifer to Burger King afterwards for dinner. Jen doesn’t laugh this time, but she does smile and look at Anita in a way that makes her wonder what she’s done to deserve this chance.

Anita logically knows that they’ve both made fucked up choices, but is cognizant that the very first one had been hers, and had been wrong. She convinces Jennifer to let her pay again, and she loves the way Jen smiles when she mentions Jen can pay the next time.

They talk and laugh over their meals (she marvels that Jen chooses a burger over a salad) for what feels like no time at all but is, in reality, nearly three hours.

Jennifer drives them back. By coincidence, Anita’s place isn’t that far. She convinces Jen that she’ll be fine walking home, and so they eventually end up sitting in Jen’s car parked out in front of her apartment.

“This has been so, I don’t even know. Wonderful doesn’t seem like a big enough word,” Jen admits in a hushed voice as she grips the steering wheel.

Anita licks her lips. “But?”

Jennifer leans back against the headrest and looks at Anita. “But, nothing. Thank you. This has almost been a perfect night.”

That gets Anita’s attention. She leans over the center console to look more closely at Jennifer’s face. “Almost?” She bites her lip when Jennifer blushes.

“Well, you know it’s,” Jen stops and frowns, then shakes her head a little. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Jen,” she touches the back of Jennifer’s closest hand, and relaxes when Jen immediately accepts the handhold. “I didn’t think you meant it in a bad way.”

“Good. That’s good.” Jennifer nods and stares down at their joined hands.

They might be starting over, but their history can’t be ignored. Anita goes quiet and thinks back to that night. It had ended horribly, of course, with Anita saying they were getting too old to play boyfriend/girlfriend and asking Jennifer to go home. She considers what she might have done or said had she been braver, or less confused.

It hits her, and fear coils in her stomach. She takes a deep breath and turns to Jennifer. “Maybe it’s too soon to say it, but I spent too many days not saying it when I should have. Jen, I love you. Stay with me, please.”

She drinks in Jennifer’s reaction, how her eyes widen slightly and her lips part. Jen’s hand begins to shake and Anita gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“Oh, god,” Jennifer says as tears start to slip down her cheeks. She tries to speak but fails.

Anita pulls her into a hug, not minding one bit when Jen clings to her, hands digging into the back of her coat.

“How did you know?” Jen eventually asks with a sniffle, head tucked into the side of Anita’s neck.

Anita softly chuckles and admits, “It’s what I really wanted to say.”

Jennifer sighs softly. “I want you to stay, but I don’t know if I’m ready for anything but sleep.”

Her chest feeling full of an indescribable feeling, Anita presses a kiss to her forehead. “I just wanna be with you. Doesn’t matter what we do.”

“God, I love you.”

And even though she’d known it once, it still makes Anita squeeze her eyes shut to hear finally voiced aloud. She smiles and thinks yeah, they’re definitely too old to play boyfriend/girlfriend. Maybe someday she could convince Jennifer they could be wife and wife, though.

“Let’s go up,” she eventually says.

Jennifer sighs and lets her go. “Amy is probably going to give you the third degree in the morning.”

Anita gives her a lopsided smile. “I can handle that.”

They separate only long enough to get out and secure the car, then walk to Jennifer’s apartment hand-in-hand. Though Anita knows that things can’t go smoothly forever, she’s confident that they’ll do much better this time.

Not knowing her thoughts, Jen pauses at the door of her apartment to smile at Anita. “Ready?”

Anita returns her smile. “Absolutely.”


End file.
